Delayed Insanity
by Sakaiya
Summary: After Mission City, Sam can’t stand the thought of keeping such a large secret from his best friend. Miles knows everything about him anyway, and what’s a species of giant alien robots between friends? full sumary inside
1. Rejection

Title: Delayed Insanity

Summary: After Mission City, Sam can't stand the thought of keeping such a large secret from his best friend. Miles knows everything about him anyway, and what's a species of giant alien robots between friends? Sam forgot to factor Miles' common sense into the equation. Will Miles be able to accept the Autobots or will this become the rift that permanently tears them apart? Pre ROTF

AN: The prologue and chapter one kinda suck and are slightly emo-ish cuz i need to get all the messy feeling stuff out the way. The other chapters should be longer and better and should not be all 'pity me i hate my life'. Please give it a chance anyway, it'll get better!

Prologue: Rejection

"…And so that's what happened." Samuel James Witwicky explained, hands fiddling nervously, not meeting the other's eyes.

Not even a second later, he was embraced by a warm body and soft lips covered his own. Sam didn't have a chance to respond before he was let go. He was then pushed out of the house and the door slammed in his face. Sam stared at the smooth wood for a moment before what happened truly registered. Eyes widening, Sam used his hand to wipe his lips. "Miles?" He whispered to the wood. It remained silent.

In all honesty, Sam was in shock. Things like that simply didn't happen. Not the kiss- Sam had known for years that Miles wasn't… straight. Hell, Sam had had the honor of being Miles' first crush. Yes, Miles had freaked out and kissed him before, usually right after he scared the hell out of the other boy by doing something really stupid. It only took a gentle reminder that Sam didn't like him like that to resume their normal, platonic, relationship.

Miles had never shut him out before. Had slapped him, punched him, and tried to throttle him, depending on how stupid whatever Sam's latest offence was, but he had never shut him out. Never.

A car horn beeped, reclaiming his attention. Sam would recognize that particular sound anywhere. He sighed and walked back, with a final look at the closed door, to Bumblebee.

The Camaro's door opened and Sam slinked inside. He heard the click of the Autobot's radio as Bumblebee searched for a song that could comfort the human. "Not right now Bee… I just need to think." Sam interrupted, his hand absently caressing the inside of the door. The radio audibly clicked off as Bee pulled out and drove over to the Witwicky home. Sam remained silent, pondering if that closed door would permanently remain shut.

Milton Christopher Lancaster watched through the living room window as Sam retreated from his doorstep. Each step that the brunette made Mile's heart sink further. He was just pissed and a little worried. He would get over it eventually! Was Sam really just gonna give up on their friendship like that?

He saw the yellow car (the apparently _living_ yellow car) pull off. 'Of course he's just gonna blow off you and your hissy fits. He has something- someone, rather, much cooler to be his best friend now.' Miles' inner pessimist snarled, pulling him further into depression. Secretly, he knew it was true. He was a possessive, overly emotional, dorky gay guy. He didn't know why Sam put up with him for so long. Of course, he wouldn't admit that. Not even to himself.

'No! It's just…. A lot to take in. He's an understanding guy. He's just giving me time to absorb what he said.' He reasoned back, taking solace in the words.

'Yeah, right. He's just given you the rest of you're life to absorb it. Without him.' Miles could nearly hear the disbelieving snort from the darker side of his personality.

In any case, he was right about one thing; it was a lot to take in. Now that his brain had accepted the fact that Sam was going to be okay, despite the various cuts, bruises, cracked ribs, and sprained joints, Miles found himself doubting the cause of those injuries.

Seriously, giant alien robots named things like Optic Prime and Bumblebee (what self respecting car would admit to being called Bumblebee???) saving Earth from _other_ giant alien robots called things like Mega Pron and Starring Screams (who conveniently all transform into highly destructive ARMY equipment). And Sam was in the middle of it because of his grandfather's glasses? Seriously? It was a bit hard to believe.

Now, Miles didn't trust the United States government at all. He knew that they were hiding things from people: big important things. But he couldn't believe that the government could keep _that_ particular story under wraps. Mission City was a wreck, and if that happened, someone would have said something. A lot of someones, in fact. But what would Sam gain from lying to him? Nothing. Hell, even if he just wanted to never speak to Miles again, there were easier ways. All he had to do was call Miles a fairy (something he despised more than xenophobia and sitcoms) and he'd never have to hear from the blond again.

This was a pretty extreme way of getting people to ignore you, if that's what Sam was trying to do. And if he was lying, what was he covering up? Those injuries were not fake- Miles had enough experience bandaging up people to tell. But… robots? That was stretching even Miles' open-mindedness and love for sci-fi a tad bit too far.

Shaking his head, Miles headed upstairs to his room. An hour or so of mindlessly running over people in Grand Theft Auto should clear his head. Maybe, after that, he could figure out what he actually thought about Sam's… situation. Maybe.


	2. Regrets

Chapter 1: Regrets

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Miles shoved Sam out of his house. It had been that long since he spoken more than 3 words to anyone. It had been twice that long sine he became moody and withdrawn, since his last _decent_ conversation with his best friend, since he had been wrought with nerves because said best friend dropped off the face of the planet without warning. It had been 10 days since Miles had contemplated the idea that his best friend had finally snapped. 72 hours ago, he pushed the notion firmly out of his mind. 5 hours since he began to think that _he_ had gone nuts. Perhaps he had. There wasn't much evidence for his own sanity, he had always been a bit eccentric. Hell, he used to call _himself_ crazy all the time. He just hadn't thought he would have completely cracked so soon, but time (and sanity) are relative. 15 minutes had passed shine he made his decision.

He held the cell phone in his hand. It was open, the number already ready. All he had to do was press the green call button. He stared at the screen, finger hovering over the button. Closing his eyes, Miles steeled himself and pressed 'call'. The phone had yet to ring when Miles quickly snapped it closed again. With a sigh, Miles set the phone down and walked away. What the hell did he think he was doing?! There was nothing he could do to fix what happened. Why did he even bother trying to think he could?

He left his room and headed down to the kitchen to grab a Mountain Dew, his drug of choice, before going for a walk. Maybe the walk would help him clear his head and forget everything he had ruined so badly.

His walk, ironically, lead him straight to Sam's house. Or actually, it took him to Sam's block. A distinctly absent yellow car gave him the courage to walk the 7 houses down to Sam's. Softly, he knocked on the door. Smooth, white, and more terrifying than he could ever remember it being before. IN any case, nothing be worse than the past four weeks. With that thought in the forefront of his mind, he forced himself to remain waiting on the doorstep. Judy Witwicky answered the soft hesitant knock. Miles put on a smile and said, "Hi Mom." (For he and Sam were close enough that he truly felt as though she was his second mom).

"Oh!" Mrs. Witwicky let out a startled gasp. "Miles, its been a while."

"Yeah." He agreed. "Is Sam home?"

She frowned thoughtfully. "No… I think he drove off somewhere."

"Oh." Miles tried desperately to not sound as hopelessly lost as he did when he last came by 20 days ago. "Well, I better go then."

"Are you sure? You would wait for him here. I'm baking chocolate chip muffins."

Normally Miles would jump at the chance of getting some of Mrs. Witwicky's homemade muffins. They were always warm, soft, and melt in your mouth delicious. But now… now his stomach turned at the mere thought of eating them without Sam, of being in that house without him there. "No thanks. I was on my way to pick up Casey." Miles lied smoothly.

"Oh alright then. I'll let him know you came by." She said with that cheery laugh she always used.

Miles could help but wonder if she knew the truth. She must of known, a giant robot who turns into a living car is a big secret to keep. But if she did, and Sam was out there with him how did she stay in such a good mood? Her bouts of insanity aside, she pretty much handled everything with relative calm and high spirits. (Unless it came to her garden, then she was ready to kill.)

Judith ("I hate that name. Call me Judy.") Witwicky was a good actress. No, she was a great actress. She was so good, most people couldn't tell when she was or wasn't. Her bouts of insanity were, more or less, a deep contingent of her actual personality, though she faked normalcy more than one would guess. She chose her insane, emotional responses wisely, choosing small, air headed, everyday things. Her slightly ditzy, slightly insane personality allowed her to skip over many social rules and get close to people.

Getting close to people allowed Judy to have the advantage when it comes to her second talent- observing people. She didn't just watch them, but analyzed them. Everything from preferred hairstyles, to old personality quirks (like her own), none of it went unnoticed by the Witwicky matron. As such, she was easily able to tell the emotions of those around her and take a pretty accurate guess at what they were going to do. Combining those skills made her a woman not to be reckoned with.

Judy smirked to herself as she walked to the kitchen and grabbed the muffins from the oven. She set the on the counter to cool and grabbed the tray of food next to them. She took it upstairs and opened the door at the very end of the hallway. "Sam, here you are dear. Eat it all and get plenty of rest. I'll be checking on you…"

Sam looked down at the tray that was nearly overflowing with chicken noodle soup. "Mom!" he exclaimed, "I can't eat all this."

"You can and you will mister." Judy replied, turning to leave the room. She hadn't taken five steps before she stopped and turned again. "Oh, Miles came by." She announced calmly.

"What?!" Sam nearly shouted, sitting up quickly. "When?"

"About five minutes ago." She replied nonchantly. She could almost feel him glaring at her as he tried to scramble up out of the bed. "No you don't, you stay right there." Judy insisted, gently pushing her son back down, careful not to jostle the soup and spill more than Sam already had. 'Thank God the tray and not the sheets that caught the mess.' She thought, grateful she didn't have to do more laundry.

Her son's expression didn't soften in the least- in fact, it became even more fierce, angry, a harshness to his face she never quite noticed or thought possible before. Her son looked away from her, trying to calm himself and compose his thoughts. Finally, he spoke, never looking up from the white sheets. It was a habit he had, when he knew we was about to hear something he knew wouldn't please him. "What did you tell him?"

"That you were out with Bee."

"Why?"

It was a loaded question, on Judy had to answer carefully. She could evade the real question, pretending she thought he meant 'Why Bee?' instead of 'Why did you lie to Miles?', or she could lie. If she did the first, Sam would know something was up. Doing the second however, would make her feel incredibly guilty, as she never made it a habit to lie. And there was no guarantee Sam wouldn't know she was lying; he was amazingly perceptive at times.

"You're sick honey." She said, face full of genuine concern. "I didn't want Miles to catch it too."

"Mom! He's 18. He can decide if talking to me is worth the risk of getting sick for himself!"

"Oh, I know honey," she said, trying to brush off his anger, "but I worry." Inwardly, though feeling extremely guilty, she was relieved that Sam hadn't seen past her lie.

Sam sighed. He was absolutely exasperated with her and her motherhenning. Judy couldn't help a small smile. She knew that, as a mother, she could be a bit overbearing, but she couldn't help herself. Sam was her little boy, her baby no matter how big he got or worlds he saved.

"Okay then, fine." He said, indulging her. "You saved him from the big bad supergerms of death."

Judy frowned. He had beome more and more sarcastic since this whole alien robot thing started. Exponitally so, in the past few weeks. He hardly listened to her at all anymore. Still, she supposed, it was normal. He was growing up, learning the ways of the universe on his own.

God, and she still remembered how adorable he looked in his baby booties! She turned to leaved, to indulge her memories with the photo albums she kept hidden away.

"So Mom…" Sam interrupted her thoughts, memories. She turned, waiting for his question. "What's the real reason? Why did you really kick Miles out?"

Judy sighed. She wanted to spare her son her true reasons. The completely selfish reasons. "I was angry at him Sam."

Sam's eyes widened. Judy Witwicky was never angry at Milton Lancaster. Actually, thinking back on it, Judy could remember many times she let her son get away with murder, just because the crazy excitable blond happened to be around, She wasn't surprised by his next question.

"Why?"

Calmly, Judy walked over to her sick son and sat down on the courner of the bed. "He upset you Sam."

"What?"

"You went to talk to Miles. Probably to tell him what happened since you felt so guilty that he wasn't included. You came back obviously upset and you worry yourself until you get sick."

"…Did he seem alright?" Sam asked. It was clear as day that Sam wasn't quite sure what to think of his mother's reaction.

"He semmed… skittish, nervous. IF anything I think he was either coming to say he never wanted to see you again or apologize. Considering how nervous he was, I think he was trying to apologize."

"Why didn't you let him? If you were so sure that he was trying to make this better instead of worse?"

"You're just like your father. So accepting and very forgiving. You spoil him more than I do, especially when you have a fight. He ignored you for nearly 3 weeks last time you fought and you did everything you could think of except serenading him at his bedroom window, to get him to forgive you. Let him hunt you down this time. Make him work for it. It's worth it- absence makes the heart grow fonder." With those words, Judy left her son to think as she went to work on her garden.

Sam watched his door click shut with a distinct sense of wonder. He hadn't known his mother could be so… vindictive. Were all woman so vicious when crossed? Miles hadn't even done anything to her!

_But…_ he pondered. Did he spoil Miles? Was he too forgiving, accepting? In all honesty, he didn't really think so. Despite that, he didn't move to pick up the phone and tell Miles that he _was_, in fact, home. He was sick, afterall.

Bumblebee, almost always just called Bee, was a closeted worrywart. Now, while everyone knew that Bee had a tendency to worry (especially about his human), most didn't realize he was prone to Red Alert grade freakouts. He hid his hysteria, fake smiles and distracted optics covering loud panicky words and twitchy movements.

Bee had been worried about Sam for a while. He wasn't exactly sure how long, as he wasn't in the habit of documenting every klick he actively worried. He was aware, though, that it had been over a week, perhaps even two. If he had had hair, he would have yanked himself bald. (He would never admit it , but there were times he activated his holoform for the sheer pleasure of doing so. The residing ache it left his helm was surprisingly calming.)

At the moment, however, Bee was on a mission. It was a simple scouting mission, it investigate the area where faint traces of Barricade's presence had last been seen. Shouldn't take longer than a few hours.

As soon as he was done, though, Bee was going to hightail it back home. If Sam was still so… distressed, he was going to drag his human to see Ratchet. Just as a precaution to ensure that his mental disarray hadn't caused more than a common cold. It was obvious through his internet research that humans became more susceptible to all sorts of diseases when they weren't mentally up to par enough to fight them.

For now, however, Bee just pushed himself a little bit harder, racing a tiny bit faster, in hopes of getting this mission done and over with as quickly as possible.

Miles was tired of moping. It had been about an hour since he had gotten home from his 'walk' and Miles was exhausted. He was tired of being alone. Tired of having nothing to do. Tired of being bored by everything he _did_ do. He was tired of sleeping (one of his favorite recreational activities). He was tired of being _tired_. He was so tired, that he had no choice. He had to do this. Eyes flickering over the small screen, he read over the message one last time.

'_Sam, dude, I really need to talk to you. I even bough you M&Ms. So drop me a line when you get home, or just come over whenever or something. M'_

It was vague enough that it didn't really say anything, but Sam would understand. He always did, in the few, pride shattering moments when Miles admitted he was wrong and stammered his way through an apology. It just wasn't something he could do over the phone or through a text. It was the one thing Miles had going for him, whenever he did apologize, he always did it to a person's face. With a sigh (yet another thing he was tired of doing), he sent the message.

Sam discovered the hard way that he couldn't ignore his phone for more than 3 minutes. The Star Trek communicator beep (yes he was just enough of a dork to be a Trekker) as a ring tone was incredibly cool and extremely geeky, but it was also more annoying than nails on a chalkboard when continuously repeated.

Groaning, Sam groped under his pillow for the communication device. All he wanted was to go to sleep and not deal with the massive headache he had. Was that so hard? …Considering that his phone ignored his silent plea by ringing again, apparently so.

In all honesty, Sam was shocked to receive a text from his best friend. Miles was the once bitten, twice shy type. Even if the blond _hadn't_ known Sam was there, having his attempted apology thwarted damn near guaranteed that there wouldn't be another for at least 24 hours. Once he read the text and decoded the message, he couldn't help but smile. Sending his reply, Sam finally dropped off to sleep.

* * *

A/N: Special thanks to Xenophobic Doll. I was serious when I said your rapid update inspired me to update my own. lol. And thanks to everyone whose read (specially to those who reviewed)


	3. Apologies

Chapter 2: Apologies

Sometimes, Bee really doubted his human's thought process. Mostly, it was moments like this one that made him believe that Sam didn't think at all. He had no idea why Sam insisted they drive here on today of all days. It wasn't a pleasant experience last time and he seriously doubted that this time would be different. That could be because, in his experience, supermarket parking lots, in general, sucked. They sucked even more than usual on a Saturday.

Bee sighed, though he really wanted to scream, and cringed when a runaway cart crashed into his bumper. What the hell convinced him to park _down_ the hill? Someone pulled into the space in front of him. The idiot obviously didn't know what he was doing, as the two cars kissed before the driver finally stopped.

'If it was any closer, we'd be the same car.' Bee whined to himself. He couldn't move though. Someone had come and got the slagging cart, but was now having a conversation right behind him. Even if he could back up without hitting them, they would still- They sat on him. They sat on him like he was a park bench placed there simply for their use! (Actually they were only leaning against his trunk lightly, but Bee was offended anyway.)

Bee triggered his alarm, the loud squealing noise startling the humans, causing them to back away from him. The humans left the shrieking car, trying desperately to ignore the curious looks that the slagging thousands of people at the market on Saturday were giving them. If Bee had been in mech form, he would have been grinning victoriously.

The Bee realized that the alarm would need to stay on until Sam came out to turn it off in order to keep his cover. It kept people from parking into the 'now free' space to his right and no one else came near enough to touch him, much less sit on him. But the screeching was _annoying_.

Luckily, Bee was not just a car, but a giant alien robot with a supercomputer as a brain _disguised_ as a car. That meant he could do many things that a car couldn't. Like call Sam. Which, of course, is just what he did.

Sam nearly had a heart attack when his pocket began vibrating and 'Flight of the Bumblebee' sounded from his phone. (Yes, Sam knew that he was the only nerd that had his ringer to such a classical piece, but he found it hilarious that Bumblebee abhorred the ringer that Sam picked for him.) As they saw each other for a good portion of the day, every single day, Bee only really called when there was an emergency. Therefore, hearing the ringer, Sam whipped out his phone, nearly dropping the one thing he came to the market to get. "Bee? What'sup? Is something wrong?" Sam asked, nearly in a panic.

"Come outside, please!" Bumblebee nearly whined.

"What's wrong?"

"Can't you hear it?"

Now that Bee mentioned it, Sam had noticed the rather loud rhythmic screeching in the background. "Whose car alarm is that?" Sam asked, despite the sinking suspicion that he knew _exactly_ whose it was.

"Um… mine." Bee admitted sheepishly.

Sam just had to laugh. It was simply too hilarious to do much else. Once Sam managed to calm himself down, he asked Bee another important question. "Can you turn it off?"

"Yes."

"Then why don't you?"

"Without a person coming over and at least appearing to turn it off? Do you know how suspicious that looks?"

"Bee! It will be fine. Everyone will assume someone who just walked by stopped the alarm."

"Everyone is avoiding walking past because of it." It was a good point Even if Sam negated it, Bee, more than likely, had another argument lined up.

"I'm in line; I'll be out in a couple of minutes."

"Fine. Please hurry."

"I will." With that, Bee hung up. Sam leaned against his purchase as it lay on the conveyer belt. The person before him was more than halfway done. This should be quick, five minutes tops. That was, of course, when the red light above the register went off because the scanner had broken.

Bee was not in the best of moods. Supermarket parking lots were free for all torture chambers for cars (and Cybertronians) and the only way out was to drive yourself insane. Bee was not feeling it. (Sadly, despite how much he hated it, he knew that should Sam ask, he would go to the supermarket every Saturday willingly, just because Sam was the one to ask him.)

With a concentrated effort, Bee sought a solution to his plight. Unfortunately, thinking made his processor ache all the more. Fortunately he did come up with a solution. Had he been in mech form, he would have smirked. Bee relaxed and settled down to wait, wondering how much Sam would like his solution…

When Bee first called Sam, Sam had the expectation that he would be done in 10 minutes, max. When the register broke, he hoped for 20. Half an hour later, they figured out the problem and after 40 minutes, he was out the door. Part of him felt guilty for leaving Bee for so long. Especially since he knew the Camaro _hated_ parking lots. As Sam rushed to the space he left Bee, he noticed a distinct lack of car alarm. Grinning, Sam rushed over to see just how Bee solved the problem. And his jaw dropped.

Some blond chick was nonchalantly leaning against Bee as if he was hers! He tried to get mad, but found himself distracted. He couldn't help it, she was just as attractive- he meant _almost_ as attractive- as Mikaela. Okay, honestly she was just as attractive, just in a completely different way. Long blond hair pulled up into a messy bun, leaving a few strands to frame her face. Her emerald green eyes wide, giving her face an innocent appearance.

She wore a white dress that hugged her bust before flowing out, stopping a little above mid-thigh. She also wore dark jeans that merely emphasized the slender legs and combat boots. The smile on her face was playfully mischievous. Where as Mikaela was a sexy, sensual, adventurous gal with a badass attitude, this girl looked softer, playfully innocent with just a hint of an inner devil.

She walked over to where he was gaping at her, her steps light and fluidly graceful. "I missed you Sam." She said, giving him a hug. Her voice seemed vaguely familiar, and at the same time, terribly strange. She smelled of nothing except the faint hint of car wax.

"Bee?" he questioned softly into her ear. Hey, if he was wrong, there was no reason to be loud and wrong and have everyone know.

Pulling back, she gave him a grin. "What gave me away?"

"The wax."

'She' looked down at 'herself'. No wax anywhere. "What?" She asked, confused.

"You smell like car wax." Sam clarified.

"Oh," Bee replied, sheepish.

Sam laughed. "So you mind opening the trunk? And why a girl? I mean, aren't you a guy?"

The trunk popped and Bee's female holoform blushed. "Technically, in human turns, I'm both but I am closer to a male. Besides, I thought you'd prefer to have a girl waiting for you… And the expression on your face was absolutely hilarious." Bee admitted.

"Bee!" Sam exclaimed as he put his bags in the trunk before gently shutting it.

"Can I drive?" It was a rhetorical question, because Sam hardly ever drove anymore. It was so rhetorical, that it was completely obvious that Bee was asking another question entirely. The real question was would Sam be okay being driven around by a girl.

Sam was about to remark about how Bee _always_ drove when he noticed how perfectly green his (currently her) eyes were. The purest shade of jade, greener than the freshest Spring grass. From Bee's mech form, he had assumed they would be blue, like the Autobot's optics. "Your eyes are really green."

Bumblebee arched one eyebrow in a move so delicate and natural; Saw swore he must have been practicing behind Sam's back. He knew Bee was wondering why he blatantly ignored the question, but Sam honestly forgot what it was. Luckily, Bee decided to indulge him. "What colour did you think they would be?"

"Blue. Like your optics." He said, leaning against Bee's car form.

Bee shook her-his, no _her! _(The holoform was female so that was the way he was going to address Bee for now) head. "Blue you say?" She blinked and her eyes were a blinding bright sky blue, reminiscent of her optics.

"You didn't have too, I liked the green." That wasn't completely true. Sam _loved_ the green. Green eyes had been a major turn on for him since forever, especially on blonds. When he started dating (well crushing on, then dating) Mikaela, he had accepted the fact that the girl of his dreams didn't have those gorgeous green eyes, but that didn't make it any less hot to him.

The eyes were liquid pools of jade once again. "So you gonna let me drive now?"

Sam rolled his eyes and walked over to the passenger door. "Catch." He called, throwing the completely useless and unnecessary car keys to her.

The door opened. "So then, to Miles?"

Sam smiled. "If you please. Oh and Bee?"

"Hm?" The blond commented distractedly, 'concentrating on driving the car'.

"If you're coming in with me you need to switch to a guy."

Miles had to remember to bake his sister a cake. One of the coconut ones with homemade icing that she loved so much. Sydney might _act_ like a bitch, but she was cool as hell when he needed her most. For example, she was too damn lazy to open the door. Well, it was more tired than lazy considering that day was the first day she was home in 3 days and, more likely than not, she hadn't slept the entire time she was out. In any case, when the bell rang, she literally kicked him off the couch and said, "Get that, will ya?"

Miles grumbled about it until he realized it was Sam at the door.

"Hey." Sam said with a smile.

Miles stared for a moment before remembering his manners. "Hey, come in."

The words weren't' really necessary as Sam strode into the house like he owned it. "Hey Syd, Case." Sam hugged the younger girl and waved to the elder.

"You don't come around to play anymore." The 6 year old pouted.

Sydney gave him a long hard look before replying, "Long time no see."

Sam merely shrugged and turned to Miles. "Come on, get your stuff and let's go."

Miles hesitated. He was supposed to be watching Casey and he had no clue how long Sydney planned on being home. Then, the pure Goddess that was Sydney sat up with a groan. "Come on bratling. We're going out." Sydney always called Casey 'bratling'. To her Miles was 'brat' so Casey, being younger, was 'bratling'.

Miles knew a blessing when he saw it. He ran, hugged his sister and said, "You're a goddess, I'll do all your chores for the next month _and_ cover for you the next time you miss family night."

"Just go."

Miles obeyed, grabbing his jacket, keys, and the M&Ms before racing out the house, listening as Sam laughed at his antics the entire time. That laughter sounded so good after weeks of being essentially alone. Sam wasn't just Miles's best friend but, in many ways, his only true friend. When they reached the car (Bumblebee rather), Miles stopped.

Sam, who had already jumped into the front seat (conveniently devoid of gorgeous blondes), stared at his best friend, wondering what the hold up was.

Miles blushed furiously and stuttered, "Ah… is… is it okay?" The blond wasn't talking to Sam. He was talking to the Camaro itself (himself?).

At first nothing happened. Strangely Miles thoughts did not immediately go to 'My best fried is crazy; there is no way transforming robots are real' but instead to the horrifying idea that he had irreversibly offended one of Sam's friends. Miles began to fidget nervously as he saw Sam tense but do nothing. This was the Camaro's decision. Then the passenger door opened wider, beaconing Miles in. With a large grin, Miles slid inside the car. "Thanks."

Bee drove off, holding in snickers. Of course it was okay for Miles to come. He wouldn't have opened his door if it wasn't. Or even have bothered to drive Sam here. (It's just… the poor boy was so nervous! Bee couldn't help but bait him.) He drove off heading to one of his and Sam's favorite secluded hanging spots. I was about 5 miles outside Tranquility, near a nature preserve so there were plenty of trees to hide them from the road.

Miles fidgeted in his seat, even more than he usually did. Sam merely tapped his fingers against Bee's steering wheel. Neither of the boys said anything. Primus they were _beyond_ awkward. Bee decided he just had to do something.

_Hey, do you feel okay?_

_You look pretty low_

_Very handsome awkward'_

Both Sam and Miles jumped at the sudden extremely loud music. 'Perhaps it was too loud.' Bee thought to himself as he turned it down some.

Miles laughed. It was a good honest laugh.

Sam grinned, "Yeah, I'm okay."

Finally, Bee reached the spot. The second his two passengers got out, Bee transformed and stretched before sitting in the small clearing. He offlined his optics and for all the world looked like he didn't have a care in the universe. Though, if asked, he'd honestly admit that he was spying on the two boys.

"Um…" Miles was fidgeting again. Miles was the twitchiest person he'd ever seen. It was like Bluestreak but with actions instead of words. "I'm sorry." Miles declared, thrusting the large bag of M&Ms at Sam.

"It's cool." Sam said, taking the bag. "I've got Skittles and Dew."

Miles grinned. "Thanks."

As Sam went to get the goods, which Bee had dropped a few feet away when he transformed, Miles had actually walked over to Bee. "Um… excuse me." Miles called up to him.

Bee onlined his optics and gazed down at the boy questioningly.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry to you too. I shouldn't have freaked out so badly. I mean it's not your fault you're an alien robot not that there's anything wrong with aliens or robots I just… I was kinda being an ass. So… can we start from the beginning?"

Bee's eyes crinkled in a way that could only be contorted as a grin. "Hello. I'm Bumblebee, Autobot scout, Sam's guardian and ride."

Miles grinned back. "Hey, I'm Miles Lancaster, Sam's best _human_ friend." The emphasis on the word only showed that Miles knew and accepted the fact that he was no longer Sam's only best friend. That was okay, just as long as he was the best human one.

Sam was absolutely ecstatic. Not only had he saved his world and had the coolest friends any world could ever come up with, but his two best friends were trying (for his sake) to get along.

Sam watched as the Autobot and the blond continued to talk, make jokes, and tell embarrassing stories about him. Okay, perhaps 'trying' to get along was the wrong phrase to use. At the rate those two were going, they would be the best friends and he would be the one left out!

With a small pout, Sam tossed the bag of Skittles at his friend.

"Hey!" Miles protested.

Bee laughed. "I think he feels left out."

Smirking, Miles turned to Sam and said, "Now you know how I felt."

Sam pouted all the harder and Bee, still giggling used a finger to pat his back comfortingly.

Ignoring the two, Miles popped open the bag of candy and stuffed a few of the sweet treat in his mouth. "So…" when do I get to meet the rest of them?" he asked nonchalantly.

Sam and Bee only had one thought to the innocently asked question. _Oh shit_. Sam had the oddest feeling that not everyone would agree that letting Miles know about the Autobots was such a good idea and not a breech of _national_ and (now) _interplanetary_ security…

* * *

AN: If anybody even bother reading these... well, this is just a not that I won't be updating again til Dec. Doing this and Nano at the same time is nearly impossible. Had I thought about it, i would have saved this for Nano but i'm just not that smart. In any case, considering i'm like 10000 words behind, I need my full concentration to catch up. So see ya in December.


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